


Fake

by conceptofzero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:16:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's three in the morning, and there's someone crawling into her window. Those are the thoughts that run through her mind, in that exact order, as Snowman wakes up. She's still half-asleep, and she reaches for her gun, pointing it at the figure crawling into her bedroom window. Only after she has the gun pointing does she remember that it isn't loaded. The man finishes climbing in and turns around. It's Slick, which is an interesting turn of events, considering the last time she saw him, they were both been doing their best to kill each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fake

It's three in the morning, and there's someone crawling into her window. Those are the thoughts that run through her mind, in that exact order, as Snowman wakes up. She's still half-asleep, and she reaches for her gun, pointing it at the figure crawling into her bedroom window. Only after she has the gun pointing does she remember that it isn't loaded.

The man finishes climbing in and turns around. It's Slick, which is an interesting turn of events, considering the last time she saw him, they were both been doing their best to kill each other. He appears to be unarmed, but that doesn't mean much. Slick always looks unarmed until the moment he pulls a card out of thin air.

He ignores the gun pointing at him, putting his hands on the end of her bed. Slick looks more agitated than normal, which is impressive since he's always angry about something, "Did you ever fake it?"

Snowman stares at him. The only response she can muster is a flat, toneless, "What."

"Did you ever fake it?" Slick spits out the sentence again, talking to her like she's stupid. She continues to stare at him until he clarifies what is an otherwise completely nonsensical sentence, "When we had sex. Did you ever fake it when-"

"When we had sex," Snowman finishes the sentence, starting to put it together. "Why?"

"Just answer the fucking question!" Slick slams his hand against the rails at the end of her bed. It's loud enough to startled her a little and make her wish her gun really was loaded, just in case.

Snowman is still half asleep, and she's not entirely sure where he's going with this. He doesn't look drunk, but that doesn't mean much, not when he's this angry. And not when this is the first time she's ever heard him actually acknowledge that they were more than just Queen and Archagent on Derse. Of course, that had been a complicated situation, even before he engineered her exile, "Why would I? I didn't give a shit about hurting your feelings."

"HA!" He slams his hand down again, making her whole bed vibrate a little. Slick starts to work himself into a self-righteous frenzy , "I knew that bitch was lying!"

"What are- no," She interrupts herself before she can even ask the question, "I don't want to know. Get out Slick. I'm not answering any more of your stupid questions."

"It wasn't stupid." Slick leans on the rail, and even though she hasn't asked, he's all to happy to tell her everything. She's too tired to deal with that awful ranting voice of his, drilling straight into her skull with every snarling word, "You remember that flapper I was dating? Bitch broke up with me tonight, and she says, she says to my face, that she was faking it this whole time, and that I was awful in bed! Can you believe that shit?"

"You are awful in bed," Snowman interrupts Slick, "So yes, I can believe that shit."

"Fuck off." He snaps at her, and for a moment, she thinks he's about to launch himself over the rail and at her. She's not dressed for a fight, she's dressed to sleep, which she has a feeling she's not going to do for at least another hour, "You can't take this shit back, you've already said you didn't fake it. Just because you've got your panties in a bunch-"

"Slick, shut up. Did I fake it? No. Did she fake it? Probably. Are you shit in bed? Yes." She flops down on the bed again, letting her head hit the pillow, "There's your answers. Now go away or I will shoot you."

"Your gun isn't even loaded!" Shit. Slick does not launch himself over the bed, but he stomps around the side. He gets in her face, which is really only notable because he has to lean right into her bed to do so, "What the fuck do you mean I'm shit in bed? You came plenty of times when we fucked!"

"Yeah, and I had to lead you by the nose to make that happen." She would turn over, but she's got a feeling Slick would follow and she doesn't want him climbing all over her like she's his own personal jungle gym. Even when they were sleeping together, she didn't particularly approve of that, "You need someone to tell you what to do, or you go off and do you own thing and forget that you're not the only person involved. And I refuse to have sex and not get off, unlike your trampy ex who decided faking it was more satisfying."

"You don't get to call my ex trampy! I saw that musclebound asshole you were dating!" Of course Slick knows who she was dating. And if she's right, she's pretty sure Slick killed the poor bastard. He was a nice guy. Big, sweet, not too bright. Everything she wanted in a part-time squeeze, "At least my dame didn't have arms bigger than her head-"

She pistol-whips him and knocks Slick right on his ass. Her revolver may not be loaded, but it can still pack a punch. By the time Slick scrambles to his feet, she's got bullets in the damn thing. Snowman points it at him, sitting up in bed to make sure she can get a clear shot. "I know you're a fucking idiot, so let me make this simple for you: just because we used to fuck doesn't mean you get to barge in here and play twenty questions with me, or give me any of your opinions about how I live my life. You lost that privilege when you had me exiled."

He's got an ace in between his fingers, and all it takes is a twitch to fill his hands with something useful. There's a thin cut on his face where her pistol hit, and a little blood drips out of it. Slick bares his teeth at her, and she can just see how badly he's itching for a fight, "You had me exiled too, 'sweetheart'."

"When I barge into your room at three in the morning and start making demands, you can tell me to get out too." She gestures to the window with the pistol, "Now get the fuck out."

For a moment, it looks like he will. Jack slips the ace back into his pocket and turns his back on her. She's usually good about not falling for his shit, but she's still half asleep, and she lowers the pistol. And that's when the bastard whips back around and grabs onto her wrist, twisting it until she drops the gun. It hurts like a bitch, but she doesn't take it lying down. Snowman smashes her elbow into his face, and Slick lunges up on the bed, slamming her into the wall. Her sheet ends up tangled around her legs, making it hard for Snowman to get Slick off of her. He's really pissed, and she gets the brunt of it, Slick just punching whatever he can reach. She blocks the worst of the blows, finally getting her legs under her and turning them over, slamming Slick down.

Snowman gets her hands on his neck, trying to choke him into submission. He gasps and his hands grab onto whatever they can reach, which turns out to be her nightgown. There's a rip as he tears it apart and she sees red, letting go of his neck just so she can haul off and slap him as hard as she can. He doesn't even flinch, lunging up and trying to reverse their positions, and they both tumble off the bed, landing on the floor with a hard thump. Slick's already grabbing for her but all he gets is more cloth, completely destroying her nightgown while he tries to dig his hands into her body. While he's got his hands full of nightgown, she gets on top of him, resting her weight on his chest and pinning his hands to the floor. He tries to yank and she just reaches down and tears up the hem so he's left holding onto nothing but ripped silk. Slick thrashes around between her thighs, a stream of curses falling out of his mouth and she looms triumphantly over him, naked and suddenly very aware of Slick's position.

The thing is, it's been about three months since her boyfriend got his brains blown out on a brick wall, and as much as Slick's a nasty foul-mouthed vicious little fuck, she is attracted to him. Especially when he's helpless like this, squirming around on the floor between her legs.

"Fuck you, you lying bitch!" Slick snarls up at her, not even phased at the fact that she's got him pinned down. Though he does notice that she's naked, and the intensity of the squirming changes.

"You want to prove you're good in bed?" She says, spreading her thighs and sliding forward until her knees are pinning his arms to the floor. Her cunt is right in front of his face. All he has to do is push his face up and he's there. "Have at it."

This wouldn't work with anyone else. But pistol-whipping and punching are foreplay for them, and Slick sneers mostly for show before pressing his face against her. At least he knows what he's doing here, mostly. She trained him to do this a long time ago, far far away, and he clearly hasn't forgotten his lessons. His tongue finds her clit and he starts licking slowly. It's good, but nowhere near fast enough.

"Stop wasting my time Slick, put a little effort into it," Snowman can feel his mouth move into a sneer, but he does as he's told, flicking his tongue over her clit faster. If he'd been this good with instructions outside of the bedroom, he would have been an amazing Archagent. But this is the only place she's ever been able to make him listen to her, and only half the time.

Snowman feels herself up with her left hand, sliding the right down to curve under Slick's skull and keep him pressed right up against her cunt. She grinds her hips into his face, just to listen to him squawk. His arms strain under her legs, but she's heavier than him, and he's not going anyone until she's gotten off. It's good, but it could be better. He's paying too much attention to the top of her clit, "More tongue. Focus on the base of my clit- right there, that's it. A little faster- yeah."

She pinches a nipple and closes her eyes, savouring the slow build in her pelvis. Snowman likes him best like this, when he's too busy to bitch and moan. If only there was a way to keep him permanently quiet without getting rid of that masterful tongue of his. She bites her bottom lip and rocks her hips down again, and Slick uses teeth to make her back off.

Snowman feels the orgasm coming a long ways off and she digs her fingers deeper into the back of his head, still leading him by the nose even as her voice starts to pitch up high, "That's it. Keep that up. Little faster, just a little-" She squeezes her left breast, hips cautiously pushing against his tongue. Slick squirms underneath her and scrapes his teeth over her clit, and that's the last bit she needs. She tries to be quiet when she comes, but she can't stop the mindless little 'ah' sounds that come out with each pulse.

She only gets off of him when he starts pushing against her, rolling onto her back and catching her breath, the rest of her body still humming with ecstasy. Slick scrambles onto his knees, wiping the sheen off of his face with one sleeve. He struggles out of his jacket and then crawls over to her, pushing between her legs.

The bed is literally an arm's length away, but neither of them make a move towards it. This isn't the sort of thing you use a bed for. Slick shoves his pants down around his knees while she spreads her thighs again. He's rough when he pushes into her and it hurts, but in such a good way. Snowman gets a hand in his shirt, yanking his head forward and kissing him harshly. He tastes like her and he thrusts into her as deep as he can, making both of them moan. She bites his lip and he snarls, wrapping one hand around a breast and squeezing hard enough to bruise.

They fuck on the floor and it's shockingly good. She can't believe how much she's missed having Slick inside of her. He's still a selfish fuck, completely missing her g-spot with this angle, and she has to dig her fingers into his neck to get his attention, "You're off by a mile. No wonder you can't keep a girlfriend."

"Oh fuck off!" But he does change, his free hand shoving her hips up and tilting his body. The next thrust actually hits home and she moans, and Slick grins like he figured this all out on his own. She wraps one leg around him to keep her hips pointing up, and to keep Slick from readjusting when he falls back onto his usual selfish behaviours. He buries his face in her breasts, tongue and teeth latching onto whatever they can.

"Fuck me faster," She tells him, running her fingers down his back and grasping his ass, squeezing it as tightly as he squeezes her breasts. He obeys her, just like he used to, and she grins a little to herself. Just like the old days, except not like them at all since she's no longer the Queen, and he's nothing like an Archagent anymore. Slick thrusts faster and when he starts going off track, she realigns him, forcing his hips to tilt up, "That's it, just like that. Ah fuck, watch the teeth-"

He bites her hard enough to draw blood and she digs her fingers into his back, ripping his shirt as she scratches his carapace and digs in deep enough to break through the surface. Slick lets go and she can see some blood on his teeth as he grins at her, "What were you saying?"

She digs her fingers into the wounds and his face contorts with pain, "I said, watch the teeth," Snowman eases up and spreads her thighs wider, to the point that they're almost hurting, "Keep that angle, just get in deeper, just a little- yes, there, just like-" The last word is more of a moan than a word as Slick shoves in deeper. It feels so fucking good, Slick thrusting at just the right speed and angle, everything coming together all at once. Again, she tries not to get too loud, but just like before, she can't stop from crying out when she comes, her whole body torquing tight as it rips through her.

Slick fucks her steadily through the whole thing, his mouth on her breasts and his fingers digging into her hip, and his cock pistoning in and out of her. She can't even string two words together by the end, the thrum of two orgasms having turned her body to jelly. And still, she wants more, she wants him to keep fucking her until the end of time.

"I just made you come twice," He tells her, getting hold of the leg that's not around him and pushing it up, tilting her hips even further up. The angle isn't doing much for her, but Slick seems to like it best of all, hips starting to lose their rhythm as he gets close, "You can't say I'm not a good lay."

"Slick," She's breathless when she speaks, barely able to put words together, "You're a good lay, when you do what I tell you to do."

He opens his mouth to argue with her, and his eyes go wide. At first she thinks he's coming, but it's not that, "Oh fuck," He says and even though he doesn't say she was right, they both know that she is. Slick stops thrusting, clearly having trouble adjusting to this new world-view.

She's fucking blissed out, but Snowman's still got enough sense hanging around to rock against him, "Told you," Snowman says, and Slick's hands tighten. She bucks up and he shoves his hips into her and comes with a pained groan. Letting him come inside of her is probably a stupid idea, but it's not like tonight's been full of smart ones. Slick collapses on top of her, panting softly.

Snowman lets him lie there for a moment or two, head cradled between her breasts, and then decides that's enough and pushes him off of her. She sits up and her thighs are slick with cum and her own wetness. Slick stays on the floor, one hand resting on his stomach. He looks up at her, and it's kinda funny how shocked he still is. Slick finally gets his senses somewhat together, at least enough to mutter, "Fucking... fuck. Damnit."

"Told you," She reaches over to her nightstand, fumbling with her cigarettes and a lighter. The first taste of nicotine is enough to make her sigh with contentment, "I can't believe it took you this long to realize it."

"What about the first time we fucked? You came like three times!" He's grasping for straws now, as if he'll be able to uncover some shred of proof that he's not utterly shit in bed, pulling himself up into a sitting position, "Maybe four times!"

"You mean the time you came within the first five minutes and I spent the rest of the hour teaching you how to go down on me?" Snowman reminds him, and she can just see Slick's shoulders deflate.

He's quiet for a moment, and she thinks maybe he's moved on to being depressed, but his eyes light up and they go back to bargaining, "But what about that time in the throne room when-"

"No," She interrupts because apparently they're going to go over their entire sexual history, and she doesn't have the brain power to counter every single argument, "Not then. Not the next time. And definitely not the last time we fucked. Face it Slick, you're awful in the sack."

He slumps further down, nearly sliding back down onto the floor, "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"Because you're an angry little fuck who exiled the one person who ever did?" Snowman is still bitter about being exiled. She's fairly certain there will never come a day when she's not bitter about it. The floor is cold and uncomfortable and she's had enough of it. She shoves his jacket over to him and climbs up on to the bed, sprawling out on the mattress, "You need someone to boss you around in bed. Stop dating those stupid tramps and you won't have that problem."

"They're not tramps," He snarls as he pulls his pants up. She wraps herself in her blanket again, yawning and watching Slick get dressed. It's a good thing he didn't take his shirt off because there's no way he'd be able to get the buttons done back up. The little bloodstains on the back are wonderful though, and she'd love to digs her fingers in one last time before he leaves.

"They're tramps," Snowman stubs out her cigarette, not really able to carry on this conversation. She's tired and her body wants to enjoy the post-orgasm glow, not spend this time arguing with Slick about the company he keeps, "Just make sure they're bossy tramps and you'll be fine."

He glares at her, straightening out the cuffs on his jacket. But he doesn't go for a weapon. He got the answer he came here looking for. It wasn't the answer he wanted, but it was an answer all the same. Slick's a malicious little fuck, but he's got a sense of honour about this sort of thing. He's not going to attack her now. He'll save that violence for the next time they see each other.

Slick shoves the window open and crawls through it, pausing halfway through to say, "I fucking hate you."

"Hate you too," She responds automatically, "Break your neck on the way down."

He sneers and slams the window when he's through it. She lays in bed, listening carefully. Only when she can't hear him crawling down the building anymore does she make a move, pressing her hand over the bite mark on her breasts and squeezing it. Snowman slips her other hand between her thighs, frantically rubbing at her clit. It's stupid how hot he gets her, and stupider still that she's about to come more times in one session with Slick than she ever did with the dead ex. But he's Slick, and nobody gets under her skin the way he does, or gets her nearly this wet.

The third time hurts like a bitch, the orgasm so sharp that she presses her face into her pillow and makes a noise that's more pain than pleasure. It's worth it though, and she finally feels sated, something she hasn't felt in ages. She draws her hand out, idly wiping her fingers on the bedspread. Her eyes drift over to the window, fixing on the yellow crescent moon in the sky. There's a soft thump and before she can wonder if that was Slick falling, she drifts off and forgets all about it.


End file.
